


Little Wolf

by littleartemis



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleartemis/pseuds/littleartemis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris has a nightmare and seeks out the only person he knows he can trust. What he doesn't expect is the other guest there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> tw for implied abuse as Fenris is suffering flashbacks. Also implied past Hawke/Fenris.

“ _My little wolf…_ ”

It feels like he’s being suffocated, like someone’s holding their hands around his throat and pressing him down to the bed. He can feel hands all over his body, remember the feeling of breath on his skin, unwanted touches. Voices, so many voices, and  _him_. Always  ** _him_**.

His hearts beating fast in his chest as he thrashes in the sheets, murmured ‘no’s leaving his lips before he finally shoots up, looking around wild eyed. Everything crashing down around him as he remembers where he is, that he’s no longer under Danarius’ control. Still he feels like it wouldn’t take much for the mage to leash him once more and the thought makes him sick. 

Closing his eyes, he shook as he clenched his fist tight, holding it to his chest as he looked down. He needed to calm himself but it felt like he was running, even if he was sitting still. Mind racing with thoughts, and fears, the world felt like it was tilted on it’s axis and he might be sick. Might –

It’s with little thought or care that he tosses the blankets aside, grabbing his sword only as a secondary thought. Strapping it to his back before leaving the estate and running, just running. Only one thought, one person, on his mind who might be able to ease his mind. He can’t believe he’s running to  _him_  but he’s better than Danarius. 

That’s how he finds himself standing outside the Hawke estate in the middle of the night, rain soaking him to the bone as he hugs himself tight. Staring at the ground as he considers leaving, maybe he can sit at the hanged man for a bit, maybe –

"Fenris?" 

He hadn’t even noticed the door opening, looking up to find the other man there. A part of him wants to run into the others arms, to hold him tight, accept any comfort he might offer. But he’d cast away any chance for that the night he’d left…

"I’m sorry to intrude at such a time, but…" but what? He’d had a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone? It sounded silly, even to himself. "Perhaps I should leave." 

"No! No, come inside, you’re soaking wet." He could hear the worry in the other man’s tone, surprised Hawke could still care after everything. Before he can tell him no, he’s ushered inside by the other, a part of him taking joy in it. He’d wanted this after all, right? To not be alone. 

The elf moved to speak, to lean into the other, before he heard footsteps and a familiar voice, “Hawke, who was i–” 

Fenris refused to look up, knowing Anders’ eyes are on him. Instead he tried to pull away from Hawke, feeling ache and hurt welling up inside him. But why? It wasn’t as if Hawke was  _his_ , he gave up that right, it was natural for him to go for someone less  _broken_. That feeling of suffocation was back, like he was drowning, and he had a hard time deciphering all the swarming confusing feelings. He could barely understand his feelings for Hawke, let alone how he felt about all of this. 

"I shouldn’t have intruded, I’m sorry, I’ll go." He’s deflecting, and he knows he’ll likely hide from Hawke for a while after this, embarrassed and ashamed of himself. 

“ _Fenris_ ,” Hawke’s tone is soft but chiding, holding tight to the elf’s wrist as he keeps him close. “What’s wrong?”

He wants to say it’s nothing, even as Anders comes down the stairs to join them. Wants to tell the mage off, do anything that might make them let him  _leave_. Maybe they’d send him away so he doesn’t have to feel like such a fool. It’s when he hears Anders suck in a breath that he realizes the man’s noticed his state. 

"Maker – Fenris, what – " he takes the hand Hawke isn’t holding, checking over the blood on the elf’s palm. It’s when he tries to pull away that he finds the man is stronger than he looks. "What happened to you?" 

"It was just a glass bottle, now would you let me go?" He snapped, however both appear to be ignoring him. 

Then a glow forms in the mage’s hand and he’s struggling to go free again.  _No. No no no **no**_. Both of Hawke’s arms are around him, murmuring soothing words in his ear but all he can see is Danarius. 

 _"Careful little wolf or I may have to punish you._ " 

"Easy, Fenris, it’s just spirit magic." Anders’ voice breaks through the memory and while it’s a comfort to not hear his old master, he still wants to bite at him. To kick, and hit and call him an abomination,  _anything_. But all he gets is a warm hand over his own, the feeling of magic soothing his skin and stitching his wound back together. “You need to look after yourself better.”

The chiding tone has him on edge, baring his teeth at the mage. “Oh I’m sorry I came to Hawke in a bad state, I’ll make sure not to do that next time.” He’s snarling and lashing out, because he’s in pain and still on edge from the nightmare. Because he still sees Danarius in the corner of his eyes and he’s still hurt to see the man he loves moving on. But it’s what he knows how to do. 

What he doesn’t expect is the sigh it gets him, or the soothing hand along his side. He twists to try and look at Hawke in question, “we’re just concerned, Fenris.” That gets Hawke a dry laugh in answer from the elf, doubting that Anders had any care for him. 

Instead of confirming or denying Hawke’s words, Anders reaches out, stilling when Fenris went tense. “May I check you for any other injuries?” 

He’s surprised at the question at first, looking from Anders to Hawke, not knowing how to answer. Fenris had never been asked for permission on these matters…

"It’s alright," the gentle touch is enough to prompt Fenris to let out a heavy breath and give the mage a nod. 

"We’d best do this somewhere more private. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to." Anders raised his hands when Fenris shot him a look of suspicion. "I just felt you might like it better if there was no chance of someone walking in."

"I’ll see if Orana can get us some things, if not I’ll be up with water and bread myself." With that, he left Anders to guide Fenris up to Hawke’s bedroom, removing the elf’s upper armor quietly. 

He sucked in a breath when he saw the bruising along the elf’s chest, how under nourished he appeared. Shame filled Fenris, and he moved to redress but Anders took his hand, silently prompting him to stay. The mage moved to the door however, “Hawke, get some of the left overs from dinner as well.” 

With that done he returned to where Fenris sat, moving his hand as he tried to heal as much as he could. Fenris fully expected there to be comments about looking after himself, about how he should be more careful, but nothing came. Instead Anders took care of him quietly, prompting him to undress only when Fenris was okay with it. 

It was strange. 

When Hawke arrived, the elf was in better condition, if underfed. The tray was set down on the bed as he moved closer to them, smiling a little. “How are you doing?” 

"Better." He admitted, looking up. Though he was still shaken from his nightmare which had prompted all of this. 

He was sure neither would ask about why he’d come until, “so what made you come here so late?” It makes him go tense, heart racing again, and he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. “If you don’t want to talk about it…” 

"I didn’t know where else to go." Fenris admitted, looking down in shame. "I – I dreamt of him, of Danarius. I could  _feel_  him and – ” he doesn’t need to finish it as Hawke has his arms around the elf, holding him close. 

Anders settles on the other side of him, giving him a respectful distance. Though he does speak up, if only to say, “Hawke, we should let him eat. It’s clear he needs it.” That makes him blush as he hides against the man’s chest, wanting to pull him back in again when the man drew away. 

"Yes, yes, eat and we’ll all get some rest." 

"All?" Anders and Fenris spoke in unison as the elf pulled the tray closer, dipping some bread into the soup. 

"Well, yes, I’m not going to kick either of you out of here." He shrugged as if it was the simplest answer to all of it. Fenris could only smile and shake his head, biting into the bread. It was the best he’d had in a while, and he was thankful in a way that they were looking after him. 

"I suppose," there’s a weight lifted from the bed, and he looks to watch Anders clean up Fenris’ clothes. "I’ll have Orana clean these when she wakes." 

When his meal was finished, Hawke pulled him into bed, laying back with a lazy smile. Fenris was too tired to question or complain, eyes closing as he curled up against the man’s side. He vaguely registered Anders joining them on Hawke’s other side, a tentative hand draping over Hawke’s chest. There’s a smile from the elf, his own hand moving to touch Anders’ arm, letting him know it was alright. 

Maybe this was something both of them needed.


End file.
